POV: Isla Moretti
I had two choices.
Hand over the ledger and pray he let me walk out of here alive.
Or fight.
Luca DeLuca wasn't just a problem—he was a death sentence. He was watching me with that calculating stillness, the kind of quiet power that made people bow without him needing to lift a finger.
The grip of my knife burned against my thigh, but I didn't reach for it. Not yet.
"You're making a mistake," I said, keeping my voice steady despite the ice in my veins.
Luca arched a brow, unimpressed. "Am I?"
"You don't know who you're dealing with."
His smirk was infuriating. "Neither do you, cara."
His use of the pet name sent a shiver down my spine, not from warmth, but from the way he said it—possessive, mocking, like I already belonged to him.
I clenched my jaw. "If I don't walk out of here, my employer will come looking for me."
Luca hummed, stepping closer. "I doubt that. Whoever sent you didn't warn you about me, which means you're disposable."
He wasn't wrong. I'd been a means to an end—a skilled thief hired for a job, no different than a gun for hire. If I disappeared, my employer would just find someone else.
But Luca didn't need to know that.
I forced a smirk. "You think you're the only one with power in this city?"
His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, but something colder lurked beneath. "No," he said smoothly. "But I am the one standing between you and the door."
Damn it.
I could lie. Fight. Run.
None of those options would end well for me.
So I did the one thing I never thought I'd do.
I bargained.
"I could work for you," I said, forcing my pulse to steady.
Luca's expression didn't change, but I saw the shift in his stance—the way he stilled completely, considering.
"What makes you think I need a thief?"
"You wouldn't be asking who sent me if you had all the answers," I countered. "I got in here. I cracked your safe. I took something you clearly don't want getting out." I lifted my chin. "That means you're vulnerable."
The air in the room shifted.
Luca moved before I could react, a flash of motion as he caged me against the desk. One hand pressed against the polished wood beside my hip, the other gripping my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze.
"Careful," he murmured. "You're treading dangerous ground, thief."
My heart pounded, but I refused to break eye contact.
"I know how to get into places people think are impenetrable," I said. "I know how to disappear. And if someone else is after this ledger, I can find out who."
Luca's fingers tightened for a fraction of a second before he released me, stepping back.
He was still watching me like a predator considering whether to kill its prey or let it run for sport.
Then, to my surprise, he laughed.
A low, rich sound that sent a strange pulse through me—not fear, not relief. Something I didn't want to name.
"You're bold," he said. "I'll give you that."
I crossed my arms, ignoring the lingering heat where his fingers had brushed my skin. "So? Do we have a deal?"
Luca's amusement faded, replaced by something unreadable.
"You work for me now," he said, his voice like silk over steel. "That means no more jobs for whoever hired you. No secrets. No lies." He tilted his head. "You belong to me, now."
The way he said it sent a chill down my spine.
But I had no choice.
I swallowed hard and nodded. "Deal."
Luca smiled